


I Miss You Now

by feminismintensifies



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: M/M, this is literally the only published hanjoo fic i have that isn't porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feminismintensifies/pseuds/feminismintensifies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a time when Hansol held back in his dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Miss You Now

There was a time when Hansol held back in his dancing; he tried to make his movements more square, solid, "masculine." So many auditions had ended with rejections stating his dancing was too feminine, didn't have the right hip hop edge for the kind of boy groups companies had a growing interest in, and he was too young and cute for sexy soloist concepts. 

Eventually, he realized his problem wasn't the lack of masculinity in his dance, but the fact that he was too busy trying to defeminize himself; he wasn't developing his individuality.

"You're square enough in body," one particularly nasty dance teacher had said, the one that ultimately lead to Hansol quitting his former company, "I don't understand why you can't help but dance like a god damn girl."

Back then, Hansol didn't know whether he hates his masculine body or cat-like way of moving more. All he could think of was how terribly matched everyone seemed to think those two things were; now he tells himself with confidence that this contrast is the most charming part of how he danced, and most of the time he believed it.

Sometimes, though, despite all the progress from the young naïveté, from the misconception that there was actually something wrong with his femininity, old and crippling insecurities curl like cold tendrils through his chest and leave him moving with a desperate shake in his hands to prove his self-doubt wrong.

Byungjoo is with him today, something that usually qualms his uncharacteristic unsurety, but instead it puts him more on edge. Hansol makes sure to stretch out the tension building in his muscles, and Byungjoo circles fingers around his wrist momentarily to make sure he's okay.

Then Byungjoo is across the room, phone out and ready to record as he hits play on the stereo remote and music fills the room.

As he moves, Hansol feels the chills swirling in his chest dissipate, shaken out through his limbs. The choreography ends with Hansol laying on the floor, spine arched and hands reaching for something that isn't there; reassurance that his confidence isn't baseless, perhaps. He rolls into his feet and approaches Byungjoo before he can let the thought take root.

Watching the video back, Hansol's skin burns with embarrassment. He doesn't just look desperate, he looks like he's begging, movements echoing the acute need quivering in the words of the song.

The video ends, and Byungjoo is watching Hansol's face. He always does that, waits to see how Hansol feels before he talks so he doesn't say the wrong thing, doesn't pick at something Hansol already knows he needs to fix.

"I look like a dog in heat," Hansol relents eventually with a pout.

"Really? I would jump to a cat, your movements are too oily for a dog." Byungjoo smiles when Hansol makes a face at him and puts an arm around his shoulders.

"You're no help."

"It's not a bad thing," Byungjoo tries to tell him, and Hansol sees the struggle for exactly the right words play out of his face. "You portray emotions well with your movements, it leaves me - people watching breathless."

"Okay, you're just saying what you think I want to hear," Hansol laughs.

"No, I swear I mean it," Byungjoo says quickly, frowning. He chews on his lip and speaks his next words tentatively. "You like, really, I don't know, ooze the desperation of the song in your choreography, and it like, evokes the - feeling, or want maybe? - to give you want you like, physically look like you're begging for. There's nothing robotic about the way you move, it's all just - really emotionally charged. If that makes sense." Byungjoo looks embarrassed now that he's done talking, but it helps convince Hansol to the genuity of his words. Byungjoo can be loud and stupid, but really, he's a sweet and thoughtful boy when it matters most.

"I make you want to give me what I'm begging for?" he asks with a toothy smile beginning to curl on his lips as he places a hand on Byungjoo's chest, batting his eyelashes up at him from where his head rests on the taller boy's shoulder.

"Yeah..." Byungjoo admits, despite his better judgement. It's the truth.

"And what is that?"

"Okay, neither of us are very good at English, but I think we both know what that song is about." Byungjoo was always roundabout the things he wanted at all costs to avoid saying.

"And you want to give me that?"

"Listen -"

"Is this your weirdly worded and perhaps slightly long-winded way of telling me I looked like a hot piece of ass ready for the taking?"

Byungjoo is speechless and garbling before he simply dissolves into laughter.

"Yeah, I guess. You look hot." Hansol is pleasantly shocked by the admission, burrows his face into Byungjoo's shoulder to hide his satisfied smile because the statement isn't covered up with something half ass about 'speaking from a fan's perspective.'

This is the longest Byungjoo has ever kept an arm around Hansol without making an awkward excuse to pull away.

*  
Hansol doesn't even remember why he's laying here in his bed alone, only remembers hot angry tears he couldn't wipe away because it would cause unsightly bags to become worse. He still had enough sense in his upset to know better that to want to deal with upset makeup artists.

He can't even recall, for all it's worth, what he was even so pissed about.

More than anything, he wants to just hold Byungjoo now. This late at night, they would usually walk home from the company building together because it was close enough and the manager would be mad if he knew they were still out. Now, Hansol lies alone in his bed, chewing his lip raw and wondering when Byungjoo would get home.

Somewhere along the way, the dorm situation got muddled between people switching and getting used to certain roommates, Hansol and Byungjoo had ended up in the same dorm, the same room, even sharing the same bunk.

Hansol holds his breath when he hears the front door open, forced himself to exhale and breathe evenly as footsteps approach the room that he's supposed to be sleeping in. He almost can't hear the sound of the door to the room quietly opening and clicking shut over the murmur of Sangdo and Hyosang sleeping.

Hansol's bunk ladder creeks under the weight of someone, but he doesn't dare to look; Byungjoo thinks he's asleep, and Hansol knows finding out he's actually awake will spook the other out of saying whatever he might be considering. There's a sad sigh and then Byungjoo speaks, something below a whisper but still audible from this close.

"I'm sorry." The apology is short, but sincere, the quiet words sounding regretful. "I'm an idiot, and - fuck - such a god damn liar. I don't know why I said it. You were so close and I - I should be used to that by now, honestly, but I just got nervous and I'm an idiot. I am so, so sorry."

Gently, so as not to wake him most likely, a hand is placed on Hansol's head and fingers thread through his hair to pet soothingly. Even with his face half buried in his pillow, Hansol can smell Byungjoo's body wash. It's a scent that lingers even when the hand is retracted and fills Hansol's head as he falls asleep.

*

For two weeks, they hardly talk. It's something Hansol avoids thinking about because doing so makes his chest ache and his eyes burn. He can tell by the particular hesitance with which Byungjoo regards him that he's trying to work up the nerve to apologize, doesn't feel like he has the right to be close with Hansol again until he does.

Two weeks feels like an eternity when one realizes just how much of their time is wrapped up in an individual. He's in the practice room now, something he had been avoiding because of the possibility of Byungjoo being here and the chance of scaring him even further away.

Music plays through his headphones, loud enough to block out the squeak of his shoes on the hardwood, but quiet enough not to set him on edge. He's not tracking his movements in the mirror, doesn't even know if he could with his hair hanging in his eyes and his vision swimming with tears.

The song changes and Hansol almost laughs because it's one that speaks of desperate longing. The noise that manages to escape before he can stop it sounds more like a sob. He sinks his teeth into his lips to hold back whatever else wants to break from his chest as he moves to the music.

Just as the song reaches the high point of the chorus, arms snake around Hansol's waist. They squeeze tightly as manage to pull his headphones loose, one of the buds falling out. Hansol stops completely and wraps his hands around the familiar grip as if it was the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

Byungjoo buries his nose in Hansol's hair and the latter leans into him, rebels in the touch. He's missed this so fiercely that the embrace melts away all the hazardous emotions wreaking havoc in his rib cage.

"You looked like you wanted someone to hold you," Byungjoo mumbles into his hair, and Hansol shivers at how nice it feels to have warm breath wash over his scalp and neck and the words vibrate against his skin.

"I missed you," Hansol chooses to respond, only a little embarrassed by how whiny his voice sounds.

"I'm sorry." Byungjoo tries to pull away with the words, but Hansol won't let him. He turns before the other can completely separate himself and pulls him close again by shoulders and nuzzles into his neck, the force of it knocking Byungjoo back a few steps and nearly flat on his ass.

"I'm not done with you yet," Hansol says and Byungjoo bites his lip because the words tickle against his neck, wraps his arms around the shorter boy and pulls him in tighter.

"I missed you too," Byungjoo says almost inaudible, but he's speaking almost directly into Hansol's ear so he hears it loud and clear.

"This feels more like a reunion between lovers after a year rather than best friends after two weeks," Hansol laughs, pulling his head back to look at Byungjoo's face; he finds it slightly flushed and endlessly endearing. "What are you so embarrassed about?"

"Hansol." Something about the way he says the name sits heavily in the air, and Hansol holds his breath waiting for Byungjoo to continue. Instead, one of his hands smooths up Hansol's back and they're touching from chest to knee, noses a hair's breadth apart.

"Yeah?" Hansol breathes, finally, hands fisting the back of Byungjoo's sweatshirt. Byungjoo tilts his head a fraction to the side and Hansol isn't sure if he's holding his breath again or just breathing too shallowly to notice it.

"About what I said -"

"Byungjoo, I don't even remember what you said," Hansol breathes with exasperation, leaning closer just the smallest bit to rub noses, "Just forget it happened, okay? I forgive you, it doesn't matter anymore."

"Okay," Byungjoo agrees, and his voice is small and bordering on a squeaky. He's stiff with Hansol so close, this kind of proximity the reason he had fucked up last time. Byungjoo bites his lip and let's his eyes meet Hansol's. "Hey..."

"Yeah?" The tension is almost physically tangible and Hansol smiles, small and kittenish, with their noses still pressed together, waiting for Byungjoo to speak.

"I'm going to kiss you now," Byungjoo says and Hansol lets out a small laugh because it's such an odd way to word it. The sound lets some of the stiffness ease out of Byungjoo's shoulders.

"Are you?" he asks and tries to stop his smile, but the corners of his mouth end up twitching anyway.

"Yeah," Byungjoo says with a barely contained smile of his own and then he's closing his eyes and pressing forward, and Hansol heart stops because a part of him hadn't been expecting him to actually do it.

He kisses back insistently, going straight past the languid pace and chasteness Byungjoo was going for. Once again, Hansol's eagerness pushes Byungjoo back some steps, and this time his back meets the wall. Hansol takes full advantage of the leverage, licking into Byungjoo's mouth and sucking on his tongue when he could coax it out. Byungjoo's hands scramble against Hansol's back and he moans in the back of his throat. He hadn't been expecting this.

Hansol pulls back after a moment, feels Byungjoo's saliva mixed with his own on his lips and sees where it's dribbled a little bit onto Byungjoo's chin. Byungjoo looks more flustered than Hansol's ever seen him, face positively glowing red and mouth hanging open at a loss for words.

"Sorry, was that too much?" Hansol breaths, leans back in to nose Byungjoo's cheek and press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I've wanted to do that forever."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna do it again?"

The only answer is Hansol kissing him again, teeth nipping at his lips and tongue soothing over the agitated skin.


End file.
